Angels
by prodigaldaughter13
Summary: Human!AU based around a playlist. Dean and Cas are meant to be, despite the distance between them. Different song for each chapter.
1. Lips of An Angel

"Mmm..." Dean grumbled, rolling out of bed with his phone already open and pressed to his ear.

"Dean, what is it?" Lisa asked sleepily. Dean waved the phone, patting her leg reassuringly as he left the room.

"Hello?" Dean finally muttered once he was down the hall and out of earshot so he wouldn't keep Lisa awake.

"Dean." His name came across the line broken, almost a sob, but he still recognized the voice, and instantly he was alert

"Cas? Why are you calling so late? You woke us," Dean said, hoping he'd been wrong about the crying. A moment later he was proven wrong as Cas sniffled and let another sob escape when he tried to speak. "Cas, is something wrong? Why are you crying?"

Cas muttered something, but Dean couldn't understand him. "Cas, I need you to speak up. I gotta whisper or Lisa will wake up."

"Do- do you ever think about us?" Cas stammered out, small, hitching cries interrupting him. Dean frowned.

"Lisa is just down the hall..." Dean said, but as he heard Cas stammer/sob through an apology, he was struck by the urge to tell the truth. "But sometimes... Yeah, sometimes I wish she was you." So much for having moved on. "In fact... When you called, I'd been dreaming of you." And now he was probably out of line, but this was Cas, and though he cared very deeply for Lisa and wanted so badly to love her with his whole heart, he loved Cas now more than he thought he could ever love someone else, no matter how hard he tried.

"Listen, Cas, you should tell me what's wrong quick. If Balthazar catches us talking... I mean, the guy really doesn't like me," Dean said, hoping the thought of Cas's long-term boyfriend would set his own mind straight.

"D-does Lisa kn-know we're talking?" Cas asked, sounding frightened. Dean was instantly suspicious. If Cas was scared, something was really, truly wrong.

"No, she doesn't," Dean answered. "Cas, baby, I need you tell me what's wrong. Please."

"Dean," Cas whimpered, and the sound of his name made Dean go a bit weak. But he held strong, kept Lisa in mind as he spoke, because no matter what, Dean Winchester didn't cheat, or even think about cheating. Not even with the love of his life.

"Dean," Cas said again, "Balthazar... He proposed." His voice still sounded thick with tears but Dean only heard the words that hit him like a physical blow. Dean was about to give hollow congratulations when Cas carried on. "I said no." Now his voice was stronger, more like the confident rumble Dean had fallen in love with before he'd even known the man's name. "And Dean, I've got to tell you why."

Dean only nodded mutely, forgetting Cas couldn't see him through the phone. Cas kept going like he could though.

"And, I don't expect you to do anything, say anything. I just need to tell you. I- I still love you. I don't think I ever stopped." Cas's voice finally broke again, a soft sob filtering out.

"Cas," Dean croaked, not certain of what to say. "We, we broke up for a reason. You didn't share, I didn't trust, we didn't work." But the reasons seemed distant and flimsy, just like Dean's awareness of his taken status with Lisa. Cas was part of a different world, and he took Dean with him.

"I know, I know, and you love Lisa, and you're happy but I just _don't care_. I don't expect you to do anything, but Dean, I'm not over you after three years, and I won't be in another three. I love you, and it's not going away. I'd stop if I could but-"

"I love you." _And I'm going to Hell._


	2. He Talks to Angels

Dean and Cas first met, oddly enough, in an addiction recovery program. Dean was twenty seven and an alcoholic, Cas was twenty nine and popping prescription pain killers. Dean was there voluntarily, Cas was there under court mandate. When Dean first saw him, Cas was strung out on his own withdrawal. He was nearly buzzing, eyes watery and fingers twitching as he stroked the cross that hung around his neck. Dean had sat next to him and started talking, distracting Cas from his symptoms.

Dean got cleared to leave a few weeks later, but he made sure to come back and visit Cas. The shrink said it was helping him, that Cas's symptoms were gone and now he just needed a healthy environment to go to and he could be released. Without thinking, Dean volunteered, and Cas agreed instantly, eager to leave the rehab center. Dean got a list of things to keep an eye out for, starting a bit when he saw self-harm on the lost -Cas didn't seem like the type- but overall, it was pretty simple stuff. They were roommates a week after Cas was released.

As they lived together, Dean started to notice little things about Cas that weren't exactly... Usual. He always wore a small bracelet with a locket charm, the cross was never away from his neck, and while he'd told Dean he was an orphan, three weeks after moving in his parents came to visit. Cas shut the door in their face. He stumbled back into the living room, collapsing into the nearest chair in exhaustion.

"Thought you didn't have family," Dean said, trying not to sound angry. Cas looked up at him.

"I don't. Those people... They aren't my family anymore," Cas said, and then he wouldn't say anything more, just opened the locket and stared at the contents. Dean came up behind him carefully, giving him time to close the locket if it was too private. Cas kept it open, and Dean saw that inside the locket was a lock of brown hair, short and soft-looking.

"Dean, do you believe in angels?" Cas asked suddenly.

"I- don't really know what I believe, Cas," Dean said uncertainly.

"I do. This... It belonged to my baby brother, Samandriel. We got in a car accident a few years ago. He died on impact. I hope he's an angel. He was good enough to be one," Cas said sadly. The pieces slowly clicked for Dean.

"Is that when you got-"

"Yes." Cas hated the word addiction. He'd always interrupt or change the subject before it came up. This time Dean let it go, reaching out to pat soothingly at Cas's arm. The man startled at the contact, but relaxed a moment later. On impulse, Dean leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Cas's temple, hovering just long enough to feel his steady pulse through the thin skin before pulling back.

"It'll be alright," Dean said. Someday, maybe, he'd tell Cas about his mom, how she'd died too, sending his dad down into a spiral that Dean so neatly emulated. Maybe he'd tell him about how when Sam went away, Dean had nothing worth pretending for, so he'd let his demons and grief take him. Maybe someday, but today, Cas needed him. And it felt so good to be needed again.


	3. Angels on the Moon

Dean was an angel, pure and simple. He'd swooped in when Cas had been broken beyond repair, and now somehow Cas was beginning to feel whole again. While prior to rehab Cas had been essentially living in poverty, unable to hold down a job long enough to provide for himself, afterwards he shared a beautiful apartment with an even more beautiful man. Dean had taught him how to cook, helped him find a job, even let him drive Dean's precious Impala when Cas revealed he didn't have a license. He'd given Cas everything he had to give, and still he'd acted as if it was nothing.

And now Cas was dying piece by piece. He desperately wanted pain, sometime to tell him he was still living and not, in fact, dead and in his own personal hell, but Cas hurting himself would've hurt Dean. Without Dean, Cas had nothing. He eventually got involved with Balthazar, but even as the British man laid next to him in bed, he dreamt of Dean.

How Dean was always wanting to help people, save them. How Dean paid so much attention to the little things Cas did or said, and then pretended he hadn't noticed. How he would wrap his arms around Cas from behind and bury his face in Cas's neck.

Living without Dean was like living without the sun. Everything seemed dark and pointless, and Cas lived for the moments when he could fall sleep and dream them together again. The dreams were so simplistic, often just memories played out in the unreal fuzzy clarity dreams often possess. In these pieces of heaven, Dean would tell him everything, just like he used to, but this time, Cas would speak his own thoughts, reveal himself just a little bit more. This time he would open up, and this time they wouldn't end.

But they always did. Sooner or later Cas would wake up, and he'd often be struck with the desperate desire to call Dean, to hear his voice speaking softly to him, despite the late hour. He never did get beyond dialing the familiar number. Cas figured if it was meant to be, something would happen and he'd know.

And then Balthazar proposed, and everything became crystal clear, and suddenly Cas was talking to Dean after all this time, telling him everything and begging some type of reassurance. And then Dean had said the words Cas hadn't known he needed.

"Do- you mean it?" Cas asked, unable to believe his own ears.

"God help me, I do," Dean answered, sounding furious with himself. "But, Cas, this- it doesn't change anything. I'm with Lisa now, and she needs me-"

"What about you, Dean? What about what you need?" Cas interrupted. "If you can tell me you need her more than me, then I'll hang up and this won't happen again."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Dammit, Cas," he sighed angrily. "I can't. I do need you, more than anything else, but I'm not leaving Lisa for you. We failed for a reason, and it doesn't matter if I love you more than her-" A loud crash interrupted Dean's speech. "I've got to go."

As he hung up, Cas could hear a woman yelling. Lisa, most likely. Fuck.


	4. Even Angels Fall

"So, you need him more than anything." Lisa's voice was shrill, slightly mocking. "You love him more than me. Were you ever going to tell me?" At the end she was screaming, pain and fury etched over her faces as tears filled her eyes. The shattered remains of her empty water glass lay sparkling on the floor around her. "You love some strung-out _junkie_ more than you love me!" she accused.

Dean tried to protest, say that Cas was clean and had been for years, but Lisa's pain fueled her anger and she bowled right over him.

"I thought we had something, that we were going somewhere! And this entire time, you've been in love with _him_!" Now she stepped over the glass, invading Dean's space. "Did you ever love me? Or was I just some giant rebound?" she spat.

"Lisa, you've gotta hear me out," Dean began, but once more his sentence was steamrolled.

"No, Dean, I don't. Go pack a fucking bag, I want you out of here by morning." Lisa left, turning at the doorway. "I can't- I can't give all of my heart to someone who already gave theirs away, Dean," she said sadly. Dean almost spoke, but she turned and left before he could apologize.

"Fuck," Dean muttered, putting his head in his hands and resting his elbows on the tabletop. What was gonna tell Ben? The kid wasn't technically his son, but he'd stepped up as his father when he and Lisa got together. What was going to happen to that now? And Lisa… God, Dean had never meant to hurt her. He'd just stopped thinking, and told Cas what was on his mind. He loved Cas in a soul-deep way that his love for Lisa couldn't compete with. But he'd thought that was just a thing, that you loved different people differently, and that even if Cas was what he wanted, Lisa was who he _should_ want. Lisa could have offered him everything, love, a family, a house, the white picket fence life. Cas couldn't do any of that; he was just as broken as Dean was, even though together they somehow made each other whole. Dean had thought that over time things would change, that his feelings would fade or lose intensity, but the moment he'd heard Balthazar's name, his entire body had filled with jealousy as though Cas was still his to protect.

Dean knew he couldn't really have stayed with Lisa, knowing what he now knew, but he did wish he'd been able to… break it to her gently, eased into it maybe. So it wouldn't have hurt so much. With guilt weighing his shoulders down, he swept up the broken glass. He slid back into the bedroom, noticing that Lisa was conspicuously absent, and started packing his clothes up in a duffel bag. It was strange, really, how his entire life with Lisa could be shoved into a duffel bag and backpack. Clothes, a few personal items from the bathroom and bedside table, and he was done. Most of his stuff was still in the apartment he'd shared with Sammy after he'd broken up with Cas and before he'd met Lisa. When Dean had moved in with her, he'd let Sammy keep almost everything so that the apartment would still have everything it needed to be livable. So the entire relationship with the woman he'd thought he was going to marry was boiled down to clothes and some toothpaste.

His bags packed, everything cleared out from his side of the bathroom, and a letter slipped underneath Ben's door so the kid would know how sorry he was in case Lisa wouldn't let him see the kid again, Dean left his key on the table and stepped out the front door. He tossed his crap in the trunk and slid into the Imapala's front seat, trying to figure out where he was going to go for the night. It was around two a.m. Jess had moved in with Sammy; they still had a bedroom free but Sammy had class in the morning and Dean didn't want to worry him yet. Benny was out of town with his family for the week. Bobby and Ellen had a brood of kids staying with them during the summer, friends of the family and foster kids alike. That left one option.

He flipped open his phone and dialed.

"Hello, Dean."


	5. Mercy

"Cas, ah- this is seriously awkward after everything but I knew you were awake and I didn't want to bug Sam or anybody else and I figured you wouldn't mind and-"

"You may wish to actually get to the point, or I may fall asleep and you'll lose your chance," Cas inserted, halting Dean's rambling. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, Lisa overheard us... And now she's kicked me out. And I wouldn't ask but everyone else either has a full house or is gone, and-"

"Of course you can stay with me, Dean," Cas said, like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. "I'll make up the couch and we'll argue over who gets the bed when you get here." And just like that, Dean felt a little bit better. Because if Cas still knew Dean well enough to know that he'd refuse to take the bed on principle, well, maybe this would turn out okay.

He backed out of the driveway and started down the road.

When he got to Cas's apartment, the lights were all blazing on his floor, and he got buzzed up within seconds, his backpack filled with overnight shit slung over his shoulder. The door to Cas's apartment was unlocked, so Dean strode right in. Cas was sitting in the living room, his feet tucked up underneath him with a mug of coffee in his hands. He was wearing those ridiculously ratty blue pajamas that had been falling apart when he and Dean first moved in together. Now they looked like one too-deep breath would turn them to dust.

"There's a fresh pot if you want some," Cas said. "I won't be sleeping tonight, but you're welcome to take the bed." Dean set his bag down and filled a mug with the coffee, mixing in the fancy creamer he liked, secretly thrilled that he still knew where everything was, and that Cas still stocked the creamer, despite his preference for black coffee.

"I'm not taking your bed," Dean said, sitting next to Cas on the couch.

Cas gave a sigh, but it sounded more amused than sad. "Won't be the first all-nighter we've pulled," he observed, staring at his drink. Dean could practically feel the awkwardness of what they'd said earlier hanging between them in the air. He had to say something, anything to make this something resembling normal.

"You've still got the charm I gave you," Dean noticed with surprise and no small amount of joy. Cas glanced down at his wrist, where the locket with Samandriel's hair in it hung. On their second anniversary, Dean had given him a small pair of black and silver wings to hang alongside the locket. _So you'll always believe in angels,_ Dean had said at the time, and Cas had kissed him with a smile.

"Of course I do," Cas said. "It's important to me." They shared a small smile, some of the tension in the air dissipating. Then Dean just had to open his mouth again.

"I really do mean it," he said. "What I said on the phone."

Cas looked away, drinking his coffee as pretense. Dean took a sip of his own and waited for Cas to speak. "The loving me part, or the it not mattering part?" Cas finally asked quietly, hunching his shoulders like he wanted to hide from Dean. Dean set his coffee down and leaned over, refusing to let Cas get away until he'd explained himself.

"Castiel," he said firmly, and Cas glanced over his shoulder to see Dean's face which he knew was set in a look of fierce devotion. "The loving you part. It will _always_ matter. _You_ will always matter." He reached out cautiously, giving Cas ample time to pull away before gently grasping his chin and drawing him into a kiss.

Their lips met gently, with no desperation present, as if the past three years hadn't happened and they were just greeting each other after a day at work. It was soft and familiar and every particle of Dean sang how _right_ this was. He pulled away from Cas's lips only to pepper sweet worship over the angles and planes of his face and neck, tenderly relearning something he'd never truly forgotten. Heat built slowly between them until Cas's hands were digging sharply into Dean's shoulders while Dean worked a small lovebite onto Cas's gorgeous collarbone.

"Dean," Cas panted out roughly, "We need to slow down."

Dean immediately halted and leaned away, giving Cas his space and cooling himself down a bit, though the purpling bruise Cas was sporting threatened to set him off again. "What happened?" Dean asked, worried. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, I just- we shouldn't do this now, and if we kept going, I wouldn't be able to stop," Cas admitted, blushing faintly. Dean tugged Cas close, cradling him to his chest until both their breaths slowed.

"We'll wait as long as we need to. I- I don't want to screw this up again, Cas. I already lost you once, I'm not gonna lose you again," Dean whispered into Cas's hair. Cas burrowed closer to him.

"We both screwed it up last time, Dean. And I'm not gonna lose you either," Cas promised.

"Good," Dean said, pressing a kiss to Cas's hair. "We should go to bed." Cas groaned.

"You go, I've already had like three cups of coffee tonight, I'll just toss and turn until you murder me out of sleep deprivation," Cas insisted. Dean only smiled and shook his head.

"No way. I'm falling asleep next to you tonight, and waking up with you in the morning, if I have to read you Paradise Lost til I pass out from boredom," Dean teased, scooping Cas up and rising from the couch. Cas grumbled something about freakishly strong freaks as Dean carried him fireman-style back to Cas's room, where they both settled down into the blankets.

Dean instantly curled close to Cas, wrapping octopus arms around him and pulling him in tight. Cas didn't mind at all, it reminded him that Dean was really there and wasn't some wish-fulfilling fantasy. That night, despite Cas's caffeinated state, they both dozed off quickly, without aid from Milton. Dean's last thought was of how good it felt to be holding Castiel again.


	6. Cowboys and Angels

They were never meant to fall in love, Dean and Castiel. Every piece of sane logic screen that it was a terrible idea, every shrink in the county viewed it as nothing short of a disaster and yet they still seemed to fit. Two addictive personalities, now hooked on each other. It went beyond want, left need in the dust. Whatever it was they had, it was deep and untouchable, despite history and logic protesting at every juncture.

Just from looking at them individually, no one would expect them to be friends, let alone anything more. Castiel, for all his shortcomings, looked every inch the upper-middle class family man. His blue eyes radiated innocence and his honesty and understanding more than made up for his complete and utter lack of any social skills whatsoever. Dean was another matter entirely. From his messy light brown hair to his grease-speckled boots, Dean was hell on wheels. He was crude and brash; the guy who peacocked his way into the beds of strangers and vanished like a ghost before morning came. But from the moment they met, they exploded into something greater than the sum of their parts.

When they were together, any random strangercould sense something deeper running in the air between them like a current. As a couple, they hadn't been particularly demonstrative. Their hands would brush slightly as they walked side by side. If they'd had to separate, Castiel would press a gentle kiss to Dean's lips. Only when jealousy reared its head would they transform into a pair of teenagers, each seemingly starved for contact and affection. Then they would paw at each other like animals until they arrived somewhere semi-private to properly stake their claim.

The morning after Dean's breakup with Lisa, Castiel pondered these pieces of their past relationship. He wondered if Dean had ever felt the jealousy towards Balthazar that Castiel bore for Lisa. If so, he'd never shown it. With Dean, though, a lack of expression did not equal a lack of emotion. Oftentimes, it ensured the exact opposite. Castiel sighed, sipping contemplatively at his coffee in lieu of eating an actual breakfast. He was so entrenched in his thoughts that he nearly spilled his coffee when Dean came up behind him and slid his arms around Castiel's waist.

"Thought I said I wanted to wake up with you," Dean grumbled as he buried his face in Castiel's neck. Castiel only raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm useless prior to coffee," Castiel commented. Dean only smirked against his skin, kissing the tender spot there softly before turning Castiel around.

"Never useless," Dean said seriously. "Just grouchy," he added with a boyish grin. Castiel only just held back from kissing him, remembering that Dean's morning breath was a force not to be reckoned with. Instead, he fiddled with his cross, the symbol of the life he'd left behind. Dean noticed his fidgeting and caught his hands gently. "Cas," he said, "whatever it is you're worrying about, don't."

Castiel sighed. He never could keep his anxiety hidden from Dean. "It's nothing," he dodged.

"Then it won't hurt to tell me," Dean reasoned. Party of Castiel wanted to shut down and hide from Dean's scrutiny, even though he knew it was only concern on his behalf, but he recalled how his refusal to show weakness had contributed to their destruction, and he thought better of it.

"I am simply concerned that I will not be enough for you," Castiel revealed. "I always have been."

Dean's face was one of pure shocked confusion before it melted into tenderness and deep affection. Carefully, he took Castiel's coffee and set it aside before clutching Castiel to his chest. "You have _always_ been the best part of me." And then, as if sending Castiel's lingering doubts, he went on. "I don't know why I got this second chance; luck, fate, hell, maybe somebody upstairs just _likes_ me. But I do know it's the best thing to ever happen to me. Getting you back... _It_ means everything, Cas, because _you_ are everything."

And for once,Castiel believed him.


	7. Endlessly

Castiel had to run errands at some point that day, and while lounging around the apartment with a currently shirtless Dean _was_ tempting, there were a few things he needed to pick up from the corner store to make it through the next few days. While he was thinking over what he needed, he found his eyes absently tracing Dean's tattoos, noticing the few new ones he'd gotten since Castiel had last seen him shirtless. And that was a bad trail of thoughts to go down, so he focused on the reality of Dean in front of him.

He settled down in front of Dean, who was playing a small tune on Castiel's guitar. Why Castiel had a guitar, he couldn't say, as he couldn't play himself, but Dean had always been excited to come by and play it. Perhaps that's why he had it. Dean glanced up from the guitar, a smile spreading over his face as Castiel's gaze ran across his tattoos. He set the guitar aside carefully and displayed the new ink. He'd gotten a blue ribbon for addiction recovery on his shoulder and three feathers drifting from his heart down onto his ribcage. The feathers were Castiel's favorite, and he traced over the edges gently with his fingers while Dean smiled. Once the new tattoos were charted and observed, Castiel turned his attention to the old ones, the ones paled with age but still beautiful. His mother's name on his left bicep in loopy script, a bullet on his shoulder blade, and the flames that traced his spine. When Castiel's wandering fingers reached the bottom of that final tattoo, he hesitated, his fingers now hovering just above the waist of Dean's rattiest jeans. Dean loved them, claiming they were the comfiest he owned and that they had character. It took a hell of a lot of willpower for Castiel to withdraw his hands, but he _did_ have things to do today, and if he spent any more time in skin-to-skin contact with Dean those plans were going to go right out the window.

Dean gave a petulant look when Cas withdrew, but soon gave up and opted to throw on a tee shirt and tag along with Cas on his grocery run. They walked down the road, and while Dean was kinda pissed he didn't get to take Baby, he had to admit walking with Cas on a nice day was surprisingly… comfortable. Like they'd done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more. Halfway down the road, Cas stopped and took a sudden turn. Dean knew where the store was, and Cas was going the wrong way, but he went with it. After all, Cas was the one who lived here. Dean had only gone to this store a few times when Cas couldn't, like the time Cas had the flu and couldn't leave the house but didn't want Dean to leave him alone to his misery. After two more turns, though, Dean had to ask. "Okay, where we going, Cas?" Dean asked, but just as he finished the sentence, Cas stopped and pointed. Up the hill from them, at the beginnings of a residential neighborhood, was an old Victorian place. It was a good three stories tall and it was clear that from the top balcony you could see the entire town beneath you.

"That's the house," Cas said simply, and Dean knew what he meant. That was the house Cas loved, the one he wanted to raise a family in, the one he wanted to come home to every night. And Dean could see it, clearer than he ever saw a future with Lisa, and that made him feel just a little guilty and a lot hopeful. He could imagine Sam and Jess coming over there Sundays for dinner, could see their kids growing up with that big backyard, could imagine them getting older together and looking at the neighborhood from the porch- Dean caught himself. He didn't even know for sure if Cas wanted all that with him. He couldn't get ahead of himself like this. But as they walked away from the house and into the store, he found himself estimating how many hours a week he'd have to work to save up enough to afford it.

Cas smiled at Dean, and told him to find a way to make himself useful while Cas grabbed the necessities. So Dean found himself playing with the cheap trinkets they sold by the cash register, the bouncy balls and cheap plastic jewelry. On an impulse, he checked to make sure Cas was busy, picked up a blue ring that he thought matched Cas's eyes, and passed a quarter to the cashier before he shoved it in his pocket. Just in case. You know.

The bell rang on the store's entrance, making Castiel look up on reflex to see who was coming in. When he spotted that signature blonde hair he started to duck to the side, but it was too late.

"Cassie!" she squealed, coming over to hug him too-tightly. "Oh, it is so _good_ to see you! I'm just passing through, but I was running low on supplies so I dropped in, and here you are."

"Becky," Castiel returned at a more sedate level. "I can see things have gone well for you," he said, indicating the large diamond ring on her left hand. Becky laughed, and admired it for a moment before elaborating.

"He's a really great guy, I met him just two years ago, and last month he took me out to dinner on this beach and just dropped on one knee and popped the question! He's not my usual, but he's definitely sweet," Becky chattered, bouncing slightly.

Dean, maybe sensing Castiel's distress, came up and clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "What's up, Cas?" he asked, clearly ignoring the girl next to him.

"Dean, this is Becky Rosen, an old… friend of mine." The hesitation was barely perceptible, but Dean's face said he'd noticed it. "Becky, this is Dean Winchester," he continued. Becky immediately frowned.

"_The_ Dean Winchester?" Becky began. "As in, broke your heart and vanished without a trace, Dean Winchester? You've got to be kidding me." Dean's face went stormy at the description, and Castiel immediately felt guilty for it, no matter how accurate it was. To compensate, Castiel slid his hand into Dean's, and gave it a squeeze.

"Yes, Becky, that Dean," Castiel said calmly, in a voice that brokered no argument. Clearly Becky did not receive that message, as she continued to speak.

"Cassie, you've got to be crazy. This guy _destroyed_ you, are you seriously going to let him do it again?" Becky said in a stage whisper, turning so that she closed Dean off from the group. Castiel, embarrassingly, lost his temper.

"Dean Winchester is one of the best men I've ever known, and is the best thing to happen to me. If you don't accept that, it is best that you leave now and do not return," he said hotly, bristling at the implication that Dean had only come back to hurt him again. Castiel did not believe in much, anymore, but he believed that the guilt and pain Dean felt was real. And he held that belief close to his chest, right next to the near-desperate belief that Dean loved him. Becky looked a little shocked at her usually quiet friend's outburst, and it surprised her so much that she crept out without making a single purchase. Once she was gone, Castiel relaxed a bit. Dean turned to him with a small smile on his face.

"Cassie? Really?"

"It was a childhood nickname, Dean," Cas insisted, probably thinking jokes were about to come. "Nothing of import."

"No, it's just- well, the first girl I fell in love with… her name was Cassie." Dean shrugged, and reached into his jeans' pocket, fishing for something. He came up with a small plastic circle, a bright, clear blue in color, and slid it onto Cas's pinky, the only finger it would fit. "Maybe it was coincidence." Dean smiled again. "Or maybe not."

Cas grinned. "I've never believed in coincidences."

Dean leaned down and kissed him gently before leaning in to whisper in Cas's ear.

"Neither have I."


End file.
